


Legends Don't Remain in the Dark, They Glitter

by Prazeodymium



Category: Moana (2016)
Genre: F/M, Female Reader-Insert, Fluff, Glam Tamatoa, Mythology - Freeform, NSFW themes marked in chapter notes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Sassy Tamatoa, Sassy reader-insert, Slow Burn, Snarky reader-insert, flattery, long work-in-progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-09-07 02:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8779084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prazeodymium/pseuds/Prazeodymium
Summary: You never once thought that the legends could be true, but before that you didn't expect the tribe you had come to love, and the home you once thought you had, to betray you and lead you up a rock pillar for judgement.Excerpt:Sprawled, with limbs akimbo and knife still tightly clasped in one hand, you take a deep breath and look around before scuttling away from an eerily bright green creature. Large liquid eyes gaze unseeingly at you and spikes jut out from its skin. Its mouth is held wide open to reveal a slash of a bright red cavernous throat as layers of sharp teeth rim the inside. You watch in a growing apprehension as a rippled pink tongue unfurls and with widened eyes realize what its target is—you.Scrambling back you sprint towards a pile of luminescent oyster shells that are stacked high and around a pillar of glowing coral.You don’t see the enormous claw until it is too late.ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE





	1. Lalotai is Not Just a Legend

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a representation of Polynesian culture nor is it meant to be taken as a reflection as such. This is my own idea that I decided to weave together, and it may or may not have the Polynesian culture mixed within it. 
> 
> If this is offensive to you or the idea of it offends you I apologize, yet ask you to leave. 
> 
> This is a work of fiction, the following is not meant to represent ideals or actions that should be taken seriously.
> 
> This is also a work of fiction involving a relationship between a human (a.k.a reader) and an anthropomorphic 50ft glammed out crab. If this offends you I do NOT apologize. Leave, I don’t deal with bullshit, crabshit, or any other type of shit that you decide to throw at me with your stupid and unwanted comments.
> 
> Now, *rubs hands together with anticipation and glee,* if you are still here and are ready to continue let’s begin.

Your ears echo with the pounding of your people’s drums. Their hollow boom reverberating through the canoe and across the water. The wind tosses your hair forward and dries the trail of sweat on the nape of your neck. The splash of water and few droplets upon your skin are a harsh reminder of the reality you have found yourself trapped in and that what is happening—a loud boom to your left makes your skin quake—is not a dream. Tilting your head back you feel the heat of the sun warm your skin and your lips tremble with anxious nerves.

The punishments and the different ceremonies vary a great deal, there is no way you can prepare yourself for whatever the tribe has decided for you. Your wrists throb dully, their circulation cut, and you can feel the memory of harsh breath against your skin whispering to you that you will undergo the forgiveness ceremony. Your pulse quickens and perspiration beads at your temples, you hope to Ta’aroa that what they had told you the night before was true.

Tears gather at the corner of your eyes and the blindfold that is wrapped securely around your head, obscuring them from your people’s view, is something that you are thankful for—it would have been shameful to let the others see them fall.

For a moment the smell of dried sweat, sweet coconut, and the saltiness of the sea fill your senses and calloused fingers rub soothingly, but shakily, across your skin.

“I am so sorry. Forgive me, someone must have told.”

The barely there whisper of his voice is difficult to make out over the pounding of the drums but as soon as you piece together what he’s said your mouth parts open to snap at him in anger, but remembering, you clench your teeth together resolutely and still your tongue. It’d do no good if you say anything now. It would just condemn you more. You know this, but that resolution nearly goes up in a burst of smoke when you feel him press a gentle kiss into your hair. The shudder of revulsion that races up and down your frame is something that you can’t hide and you turn your face in what you hope is the opposite direction.  

His sigh is less heard and more felt in response to your behavior but you are resolute. He betrayed you and it has happened far too many times for you to shrug it off anymore. You feel the way the canoe rocks as he stands up and walks away.

You sit still, head still turned in the opposite direction and hope no one can see the way your mouth quivers. Shifting your arms to ease the ache in your hands from the tightness they are bound a sharp motion of the canoe has you furrowing your brows in confusion. Body rocking unsteadily you hear the dragging sound of wood upon wet sand. _The canoe must be exiting the water._ Rolling your shoulders again you prepare yourself.

You were there.

Breathing in apprehension you feel rough hands haul you up by your bound arms and drag you out of the canoe. The lick of water and the feeling of wet sand beneath your feet is something you relish for the moment you are allowed. Furrowing your toes deeper into the sand you sigh in satisfaction. When you feel the harsh jerk on your arm you tilt your head up and blatantly ignore the idiot who is trying to rush you to your sentencing. Instead you bask in the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the water. The turmoil within you is quieted for a moment before your tribe begins to chant in guttural tones. Tears bead at your eyes as the full weight of not knowing what lies in store for you at judgement settles heavily against your mind. Mouth pulled into a grimace at another yank you stumble out of the ocean and its waves, and onto the loose sand of the shore line.

Mouth like a whip you open it to snap at whoever is abusing your arm but close it with a solid clack. The oath of silence. You must follow it. A snort of amusement comes from who you assume is the owner of hands-that-grab-and-yank a lot and you bitterly and blindly begin to march forward.

The pounding of the drums increases and the hand gripping the upper flesh of your arm yanks abruptly to the left. Grimacing at the feeling of being led you stifle a wince when there is a sudden dig of nails. _That’s going to leave a mark_ , you think as you feel deep crescents forming in your skin.

As hands-that-grab-and-yank a lot continues to move forward, you stumbling after, you feel the change of the terrain underfoot become rocky. _We must have just left the beach,_ your mind offhandedly notes as you tilt your head upwards, a parody of what you would have done had you been able to see. You stand still as the feeling of a loop of rope is tied around your waist. The lick of frustration stings at you from the stupidity of having to do this, and you bitterly curse the rules from the silence of your mind. Of all the tribes that you could have run into, you ran into the one that held a senseless level of symbolism to their rituals.

However, a wave of affection still wells up within you despite your predicament and a small feeling of hope flickers. _Everything is going to be fine_ , you chant to yourself as you feel the ropes around your wrist be untied, _you’ve been with these people long enough that they want you there with them. They want you to be part of the tribe. That is why you’re going through the trial of judgement. Everything is going to be alright._ A shaky sigh leaves your lips and you hear loose rock fall.

Head still up, you tilt your ear closer to the rockface and listen to the exhales of heavy breathing and scrambling of feet as the tribe continue their arduous journey up. When the ropes are finally removed you shake your hands to get the blood circulating. They tingle unpleasantly like tattoo pricks dancing across your fingers, and as you rub your wrists you can feel sharp cuts and swollen skin. You swallow unsteadily as you hear the diminished sounds of the tribe’s climb and straighten your spine in anticipation. It wouldn’t do to be nervous now.

Standing still with your stomach roiling in nerves you realize that it is just you and hands-that-grab-and-yank a lot. Your hands nervously dance and you feel the rope around your waist grow taunt then loose before you are bodily picked up and placed on the nearest foothold. Toes dig into the crevices of their foothold as your fingers, still dancing, test the tautness of the rope around your waist. With a sudden clarity you realize that you are tethered to him. Before you can think any more on this still not-so-soothing idea of safety (your palms already sweating uneasily at the task that lies before you) your body is brusquely shoved again towards the rock face.

Shuddering, you lift your hands as you have been instructed and listen intently to the directions of your guide. _Left hand up, up, stop, grip. Right hand up, left, left, too far, there, now grip. Pull up and slide your body, hold, lean forward, crawl. Now back up. Toe hold in front…_

Hands moving jerkily, your stomach still rumbling in unease, sweat already beads at your brow as the guides deep monotone voice reminds you of your dependence on him and your hope that he leads you to safety. Your hand slips and quickly grab back at the hand hold. Cursing the blindfold your jaw clenches and the symbolism of your situation is not lost on you.

 _Come on, just listen to the guide and you’ll be safe. Well,_ your mind sarcastically inputs as you continue to concentrate on touch and making sure that each hand hold supports you, _towards the safety of being judged_. Gritting your teeth you grab for another hand hold and try to drown out your internal monologue of anxiety.

It is slow going and exhausting. Your body aches beneath the unceasing heat of the sun and your fingers start to feel clammy and slick. It is just as you move your hand to get to the next hold that the toe ledge supporting your left leg crumbles and a sharp pain explodes in your foot. Stifling a hiss you pull yourself up and slide onto an area that feels wide enough to hold all of your weight. Leaning against the pillar of rock you unseeing grope for your foot.

_What in Ta’aroa’s name is that?_

Fingers tracing the wounded area you withdraw a shard of rock that had broken off in the previous toehold. Your guide is silent but you know he’s near as his calloused fingers poke at your foot in worry. He prods the injury a little longer before grunting, “Get up, it’s just a small scratch. You have more left ahead of you and you need to reach the top as soon as the sun reaches its highest peak.”

You nod in bitter understanding before blindly turning towards the pillars. Ignoring the way your foot now throbs you daringly hop from one hold to the next, sliding your body across the ones that feel wider and can hold your weight. The grumbling of your guide at your brainlessness is loud and harsh behind you, but you ignore it. Placing any pressure on the ball of your left foot hurts to the extent that it makes your leg shake, despite the cut’s shallowness, and you can’t risk another misstep.

Flicking your hair back you continue to put as little pressure as possible on your injury and haul yourself up. For a moment you can picture the trail of red that you are leaving behind as you stumble upwards and you have to withhold a snort of irritation and pain.

By the time you, and whoever the person with sharp nails is, have made it to the top your neck and upper body are covered in a fine sheet of sweat and your left leg is shaking. Standing for a moment with your weight resting heavily on your right foot you are filled with a sense of lightheadedness. Teetering momentarily you flinch when the guide grabs your arms and leads you a little ways forward, your legs moving like jelly. Exhausted from your experience you can’t hide the flinch when you feel the bite of rope against your skin as he reties your hands together behind your back. Your body slumps limply as your hands thump, now bound, against the small of your back. As your ever-so-helpful guide turns to leave (well, you guess you really should thank him, he is the one that got you up to judgement in one piece and also on time if the warmth of the sun is anything to go off of) you feel his warm hands damp with a little sweat slide something into your palm. Instinctively you close your hands tightly to conceal whatever has been passed to you.

Tilting your head you run your tongue out to moisten your lips as you slowly move each finger around the object. With a start you clench your hands tighter together and with wide eyes realize what it is.

A knife. You’ve been slipped a knife _._

Before you can think any more on this strange breaking of rules you hear your name called. Jerking your head up you listen with a bored nonchalance as the chief reads out your crimes and withhold a snort. Despite your love for the tribe the accusations that you hear are more like the suspicious mutterings of paranoid people, rather than actual concerns.

You shuffle in place, ignoring the throbbing in your foot and the rest of the tribe’s ‘concerns,’ and feel the deep groves made into the stone. Cocking your head in curiosity you trace the sweeping groove again before stifling a laugh. _Turns out they weren’t kidding. I wonder if this really does lead down to Lalotai?_ You swallow deeply and the feeling of surprised amusement fades. You clench your hands tighter. Whether or not it lead to the realm of monsters didn’t matter, the fall to wherever the pit led would most likely kill you.

“Do you understand the crimes that you have done against the people of your tribe?” the chief drawls out from somewhere across from you. His voice resonates in the open.

You do not speak. You know the rights, you had seen them happen before your own eyes, although not here on the top of a giant rock pillar that you had been forced to climb blindfolded. Speaking is not allowed, especially if the oath of silence has been enacted. Instead you tilt your head slightly down in acknowledgment and hope that the shaking in your limbs is unnoticeable.

The drums pound louder, the men begin to chant in low tones, and amidst the chanting your chief cries out in a loud voice asking if a member would enact the ritual with you to help you atone for your betrayal. Your body stills. That is not supposed to happen. The people were supposed to be asked whether or not they would forgive you. You are supposed to be accepted back into the tribe, you had promised been that what you had done wasn’t oath breaking.

You can feel the blood draining from your face. _What have you gotten yourself into?_ You had always been a restless wanderer. With a sharp tongue and disbelief in cultural lore you had never really fit in any place you had found. But with the Ata’leonui you thought it would be different. A cold chill slithers down your spine. _This is what happens when you try to make a home in a place you know you don’t belong in._

Your breathing becomes ragged and you can barely understand what the chief is saying. All your mind can register is the echoing silence from the people you’ve been a part of since you came to them on your smashed canoe with a bleeding forehead and severe dehydration.

Mind reeling you feel your body sway as the urge to be sick threatens you. A deep rumbling sound emerges from beneath your feet and the people around you begin to chant louder. With a racing heart you listen as your name is screamed as a slur on their lips. There is a tightness forming in your chest, you can’t breathe, and your entire body trembles as you hear yourself be cursed and banished from the tribe.

And with a sudden push you find yourself freefalling down into nothingness.

Holding back the scream that chokes your throat (you won’t give them the satisfaction of hearing your fear) you slide the knife so that the feel of its sharp blade of animal bone is against your wrist, and begin to cut desperately at the ropes which bind your hands together. That’s when you hit it. With the blindfold still securely covering your eyes you have no idea what has just happened, all you know is that your mouth is suddenly full of liquid and your body is encased in it. _A tunnel to the ocean?_  Eyes widening in surprise you let the water dribble out and begin to frantically attack the ropes with the small bone knife as your body is sucked deeper into—wherever it is being sucked into.

With lungs tightening up painfully, and eyes watering from the burning sensation you squirm your arms anxiously and nearly cry in relief when the ropes give way. Moving quickly you yank the blindfold off and scream.

You are headed straight towards the ground and it isn’t encased in liquid.

Arms crossed over your face you prepare yourself for the unforgiving hit of stone as you are ejected out of the tunnel of watery fluid.

Only a few feet from the ground you hear a tremendous screech and the feeling of your body being snatched from the air. Black long claws with sharp nails are encircled around your waist and the flap of leathery wings is loud overhead. You choke and stifle the urge to bury your nose into your free hand—the smell of rotten meat: thick, heady, and overpowering. Gagging, you crane your neck to look up and let out a yelp of fear.

Covered in soft fur with a sharp fangs overlapping sagging lips, and multiple eyes lining from the snout back it stared at you then opened its jaws with an earsplitting shriek. _It’s not possible_ , your eyes widen with horror, _the Pe'ape'a-maka-walu are supposed to be a legend! Not REAL!_

Floundering desperately you squirm in the creature’s grip. _If the eight-eyed bat from the legends is real what else from the tribe’s stories lurks down below here in Lalotai?_ Your mind questions frantically as your heart beats in terror. Throat locking down in fear you continue to squirm before remembering the knife you still have in a death grip. Looking at the ground you wait until the creature has swooped low enough before jabbing the knife deep into the flesh of one of the toes. As you yank it free you catch a glimpse of purple blood oozing from the wound before, with a screech of pain from the Pe'ape'a-maka-walu, you are abruptly released and left to tumble.

Sprawled, with limbs akimbo and knife still tight clasped in one hand, you take a deep breath and look around before scuttling away from an eerily bright green creature. Large liquid eyes gaze unseeingly at you and spikes jut out from its skin. Its mouth is held wide open to reveal a slash of a bright red cavernous throat as layers of sharp teeth rim the inside. You watch in a growing apprehension as a rippled pink tongue unfurls and with widened eyes realize what its target is— _you_.

Scrambling back you sprint towards a pile of luminescent oyster shells that are stacked high and around a pillar of glowing coral.

You don’t see the enormous claw until it is too late.

 


	2. Tamatoa the Pāpaʻi Ke Alii

“It seems we have an infestation of humans crawling around in the realm of monsters.” The creature’s voice drawls as bright blue-green eyes stare at you with a measure of nonchalance.

Returning the stare back you gape at him like a fish as you realize that yes, the creature-like ginormous crab did speak, and yes, he did just insult you.

“Infestation?” You snap out affronted while dangling like a trinket from the creature’s giant pincer, “I’m not some kind of bug!”

“No? Well, I suppose if humans were ever in Lalotai it would be because they were being offered as a snack.” And with that he hangs you over his cavernous mouth.

“Wait! Wait!” You yell while frantically trying to latch onto his claw, the knife lying somewhere on the ground where you had dropped it in the panic of suddenly being grabbed, “Hold on a second! You don’t want to eat me!”

“I assure you human, that I very much do. I haven’t had anything to eat for the last few months. It has literally been _ages_ since my last meal.”

“But if you eat me,” you say while your thoughts flounder, “then it might be ages until your _next_ meal. I can hardly be a satisfying morsel. I’m tiny, scrawny even, just look at me,” you wave your arms towards and around your body as if that would help make your case before latching back onto the claw like a barnacle. In nervous anticipation you watch as the crab considers, albeit a bit in frustration, the truth of your words. Sensing the means of escape you hurriedly continue, “Besides I’d only appease your hunger for a moment that’s barely anything if you’re…” you trail off as you realize the full situation of why your captor, a giant 50ft crab, hasn’t been able to get food.

He was sprawled on the back of his shell—which seems to be entirely constructed from gold—with no way, it seemed, to get back up. You glance up and realize from the large crater above him that he had been able to slide down from his initial spot (which explains why he had been able to grab you in the first place) but the lip from the outcropping of the rock seemed to have prevented the rest of his movement of sliding downward any further which seemed to be the crab’s initial plan.

A loud rumbling echoes from below and the reality of how precarious your situation is sets in. Panic bubbles in your stomach and you can feel a nervous sweat break out over your body as the crab’s eyestalks scrutinize you.

“Then what do you suggest we do, hmmm? If I let you go there’s no guarantee that you’ll help me. I might as well eat you now and enjoy what _little_ of you there is.”

Gripping his claw tighter with your hands you swallow the nervous lump in your throat. You were in a world that you never thought to be true. Creatures and beings from legends and myths roamed around and to them, a little human like yourself, would just be as delicious of a tasty a morsel as you would be to this crab. Mind whirring your self-preservation kicks in and you figure out a tentative plan.

With a slight smile on your face that you don’t feel internally you start to set the bait, “Well, as you said humans are considered snack food here and that situation leads to a rather...bleak outcome for me. My idea is if I help get you food and,” eyes glancing down you consider the slope of the rockface he is on, “figure a way to help you out of your situation, you in return offer me protection from all the other monsters and promise not to eat me.”

“And if I don’t?” the crab rumbles as he draws you closer to his face. Stifling the urge to cry in frustration you shrug as nonchalantly as you possible can before staring straight at one of his eyes.

“Then you eat me and are stuck here on this rockface. I doubt any monster, or human—if any more show up around here—will be willing to help you in the way I’m willing to.” You glance back at his shell and grin up at him, “and once I get up on your feet I can help you scavenge for shiny objects. You know, help you reach those places you may have difficulty reaching because of your size.

“I’m guessing that you helping me scavenge will also be in exchange for continued protection?”

“Yes, along with the promise not to eat me.” You remind him.

The crab harrumphs but you can see him actually considering your deal. His face falls into a resigned grimace—most likely from the idea of having a human help him—when his stomach gurgles again. With a scowl he looks back at you, his eye stalks zooming in close enough that you can see your reflection in his pupil.

“You drive a hard bargain, babe, and I accept, but,” he shifts his claw and you swing precariously back and forth,” if you try to escape, or if you back out on our deal I won’t hesitate to eat you and I promise,” his voice drops and his eyes narrow, “I’ll make sure I chew slowly.”

Gulping and paling a bit you are unsteady on your feet when he lowers you back to the ground. Shifting on his shell in what you assume is a way to become more comfortable he flicks a pincer in the direction of a giant hole in the coral where it looks like something busted through.

“Now, human, through there is my cave. Just move some of the gold around to attract the fish that will be overhead and they’ll come straight to you.”

“That will work?” You ask in dubious astonishment and watch in bewilderment as the crab laughs.

“Work? Babe, they’ll be fighting to get to you! Now, shoo, go get me some food.”

“Okay, okay, Pāpa'i, I’m going. Don’t get you’re pincer’s in a twist.”

The crab rears his head back as if you had seriously insulted him. “I am _not_ merely some pāpa'i. I am Tamatoa! The most glamourous and beautiful creature in Lalotai!”

“Only in Lalotai?” you ask in weary amusement as you step, mindful of your left foot’s injury, over one of the smashed rocks at the entrance of giant crevice. The crab, no Tamatoa, looks as if you told him that you knew the location of where a giant stash of buried treasure is.

“You’re right, babe! Tamatoa is the most beautiful creature in the entire ocean, the whole world, the…” his voice continued on in a monologue of self-praise and you shake your head. _Of course the one monster that I can rely on for protection is a narcissist_ , you think as you take in the space of the cave you are in.

It was huge and open. Nothing stood in the way of something. Which made sense, a 50 foot crab needed room to scuttle around. Trailing a hand against some glowing pink coral you look around for the opening Tamatoa mentioned in the ceiling. There is nothing. You squint around for maybe another opening and see a crevice leading out of the cave, probably the original entrance, but no hole in the ceiling. It is a beautiful cavern though. Despite it being bathed in pitch-black, light illuminated off glittering teal objects that spiraled around the walls and floor of the space, plants fanned and waved glowing with a soft deep blue and purple, and along the wall and certain areas of the cave bioluminescent green algae illuminated their respective areas in small clusters. You tilt your head up back up towards the top of the cave ceiling, _Where in_ _Ta’aroa’s name is that_ _opening he was talking about?_

After realizing that staring at a section in the ceiling wouldn’t magically make an opening appear and not wanting an angry and rather _hungry_ crab on your hands for taking too long you call out for Tamatoa, successfully interrupting his monologue of self-praise.

“What human?”

“There’s no opening in the ceiling!” You wait patiently when a storm of curses and, “I knew I shouldn’t have closed it,” echoes back.

 Shifting in place a sense of uneasiness settles in the pit of your stomach. If you couldn’t get Tamatoa fish you were sure to become his next meal. A bead of sweat trickles down your forehead and you hurriedly begin to debate on whether or not you should just make a run for it.

“Human!”

“Yeah?” Your voice calls back nervously, your body already starting to edge towards the entrance opposite of the cave.

“Did that work?

Confused, you part your lips to ask _what worked_ when a grumbling moan fills the room. Shrieking, you drop down to your knees expecting at any moment some kind of monster that Tamatoa kept as a pet— _monsters could have pets right?­—_ to come running in and dismember you. When the sound stops and nothing’s happened you slowly open your eyes.

It is beautiful.

Standing up you turn around in a daze. Veins of gold line and lattice across the walls of the cave in a pattern that mimics the luminescent glow of teal that had once been there when it had been dark. Coral and pillars of rock glitter brightly in soft tones of pinks, purples, and whites; while plants ranging in a variety of color sway gently. But the gold! Oh, the gold is stunning. It glitters and shines in piles of objects that emanate their own unique sparkle that light up the cave from the inside. The sight of it all takes your breath away and you can’t help but trail your fingers across one of the refracting trinkets.

A shadow dances across your skin and you eagerly glance up and there, swimming and darting around the opening, is a window to the ocean. Fish of different species swim in schools of flashing silver and bright blues. It was like looking into a whole other world.

“Your home is gorgeous Tamatoa!” You shout towards the broken entrance with excitement. Tamatoa’s snort is something you can hear even at the distance you’re apart.

“Of course it is, babe, you can’t expect someone of such beauty to live in a hovel.” you nod your head in agreement even though he can’t see, “Now any other time I would encourage you to keep admiring my stunning home but I’m _starving_! So stop looking and start getting my dinner.”

“Of course pāpaʻi ke alii of all that glitters.” You reply back while picking up a gold plated shield. It’s heavy but not enough that you waver beneath its weight. It would do well as a serving platter for pilling the fish on, well, that is, once you catch them.

“Flattery,” Tamatoa’s dry drawl echoes back to you and you grin, “will get you only so far, babe.”

“But it gets me somewhere.” You taunt while laughing and heading towards the center of the cave beneath the window to the ocean. Angling the shield to receive the most of the light you begin to flash it back and forth. For a moment you doubt that it is working and begin to look for something else that you can use when it begins to rain fish.

Fat slick fish, a mixture of butaguchi ulua and kawakawa, dive out from their safety of the ocean and down towards the flickering glitter of the shield. Satisfied with the catch that had been caught you wait until they stop moving before piling as many as many as you can hold onto the shield. _I hope Tamatoa doesn’t mind that I’m using his treasure to transport fish…then again, he’d probably be ecstatic just to eat something,_ you think before leaving the rest of the fish on the floor for your next trip back and head out to go feed the hungry crab.

“Tamatoa, dinner!” You yell while standing by his lowers limbs.

“I can hear you just fine without your yelling, human. And about time, I was—is that my gold Indo Persian Shield that you’re using as a platter?” His eye twitched.

You sigh in exasperation and steady the platter of fish in your arms, it was getting extremely heavy, “If that’s what this is then yes, I am using it as a method to feed you because it allows me to carry more.” You cock an eyebrow, “Do you not want the fish?”

“Don’t get sassy with me, babe. I just don’t like seeing my treasure used in such a menial manner.” And with that being said he picks up the platter of fish delicately between one of his claws— _how on earth is he able to do that without crushing it?—_ and dumps the fish down his throat. You are suddenly filled with a very vivid image of what it would have been like had that been you. Shaking off the feeling you watch as he chews and slurps loudly through his meal before humming in satisfaction. “Delicious,” he hands the shield back to you, “Well, that was a delicious appetizer but—”

“I’ll be back with more fish. There’s still a bunch left, I just couldn’t carry them all.”

“The downfall of being a puny human.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, this puny human is feeding you so be thankful you giant crustacean.”

“Thankful? Why in Lalotai’s name should _I_ be thankful? It is _you_ who should be thanking me! I didn’t eat you.”

“Ah, and it's just that.” You smile back at him coyly, “If you had ate me it would mean days, weeks, _months_ without the possibility of getting more food. Without someone to bring it to you. Imagine.” You lower the shield and cock your hip against it while gazing up at the crustacean, “The gnawing hunger in your belly, the pain that would spread further and deeper into your shell from having to support you all that time, and the deep burrowing regret over eating the only source willing to help you. I’m doing you a favor really.”

Tamatoa was silent, his eyes narrowing into slits, “Is that so?” He drawled before a truly nasty smile spread across his face, “And what about the rest of the deal, hmm? I protecting you from all the other baddies out there and promising not to eat you? You are aware human that had I not promised to eat you I still could have chomped off little bits and pieces of you.”

A deep chill settled in your stomach and it took all your nerve to keep your smile in place, “True, but that would have left me handicapped in ways that might have made it difficult for me to uphold my part of the deal had I still decided to keep it.”

Tamatoa didn’t say anything only stared at you with narrowed eyes and twitching pincers that you eyed warily while cursing yourself for riling him up. An angry, hungry, and now even _more_ aware of the symbiotic relationship you two were forced into crustacean was not something you wanted to deal with.

And it forced you into doing something that you hadn’t had to do for a long time.

Fold.

“Well,” you cough before shuffling slightly, “I’ll just go and get the rest of your fish.” You move to turn around but your injured foot slips on a loose rock causing you to grab onto the shield for support. Like stinging anemone pin-pricks the pains stagers up your leg in a burning current. Immediately, it becomes impossible to hide the expression of pain that sweeps across your face and the way you use the shield as a crutch. Regaining your bearings you notice the way that Tamatoa’s eyes immediately dart towards your injury and your face flushes in a mixture of embarrassment and anger towards yourself. _I can’t show him how weak I am now!_ When Tamatoa’s eyes glance up to meet yours and his mouth parts open as if to say something you quickly grab the shield and dart into the seclusion of his cave.  

It was agony. Every step made you want to curl up into tears and by the time you were only a few feet away from the pile of remaining fish you dropped the shield and boneless, slide onto the ground in a heap of loose limbs. The adrenaline that had kept you going had worn off and your body was left limp, rubbery, and aching. Eyes stung with tears and you bit your lip hard enough that the copper tang of blood ran into your mouth.

With blurry eyes you sat as the crushing weight and knowledge of the betrayal you had underwent from a tribe you had adopted and begun to think of as your own crushed you. You had been banished to where legends and monsters really existed, and were stuck with a mood changing crab as your only means of protection; who, for all means and purposes could very well end up eating you in the end anyways. But most of all your foot hurt. All the running on rocks and strange terrain had gouged the wound into a deep, bleeding mass of tissue that had filled with all manners of strange and filthy things.

With quiet sniffles you tenderly pressed a finger against the cut. Ooze and all manners of filth exited out in a sluggish pour of blood and your teeth clenched together to hold back the pitiful whimper that nearly escaped your throat. Ripping off a layer of your top you quickly fold and bandage the area before hobbling over to the pile of fish—Tamatoa would have expected you out by now. Stacking as many of the scaled creatures on as you could carry you make your way back out the cave.

“Here.” You say in a mumbled voice while thrusting the platter of fish at him once you are close enough.

“Mmm, about time human. I thought you had escaped with how long you were taking.” He said in a tone of nonchalance before gulping the fish down. You wait for him to direct a scathing comment at your appearance, specifically your puffy red eyes, but when only the sound of him enjoying his meal greets your ears you allow some of the tenseness to ease away.

Exhausted, both emotionally and physically you are too tired to notice his claw and are taken by surprise when the ground suddenly leaves your feet and you’re dangling in the air.

“No!” You cry out flailing in his grip in near hysteria. “You promised! We had a deal! We—”

“Relax, babe, relax. I’m not going to eat you. Sheesh, you humans are so fragile.” Tamatoa said with a roll of his eyes before gently placing you on the spot where his shoulder and neck met and the shell didn’t cover.

“What?” you ask, your voice gone watery.

“You look exhausted and that little bandage you have wrapped around your foot is soaked with blood.” You look down and realize he is right. The once soft cream top with coral and teal markings had been dyed a dark red. Tightening the cloth more firmly around your foot you run your fingers over where the cut would be. Closing your eyes with fatigue your body slumps into the fold of Tamatoa’s skin. Offhandly you note how warm and soft it is and slowly run a hand across the slightly rough pebbled like texture of his skin. With a measure of fondness a tired smile forms on your face as you realize that it reminds you of one of your travels across the sea. The memory brings tears to your eyes and you wipe them away angrily.

“I can go sleep in the cave…”

Tamatoa snorts. “I promised that I would protect you, didn’t I? You can’t go sleeping in my cave with a bleeding foot. You’ll draw any monster with a sense of smell to you and I can’t lose the only _source_ that is willing to feed me. Now,” he shuffles his body and stretches his neck before gently scooting your body further into the crease of skin, “Go to sleep. You can feed me more tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly before lying down. For a moment you are too tense to even consider falling asleep but eventually the sounds of Lalotai and Tamatoa’s breathing lull you deep into Niolopua’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pāpaʻi ke alii -- Crab King  
> Niolopua -- God of Sleep
> 
> If you have any questions on any words leave a comment


	3. Be Wary, My Child, of the Tongues the Loll and the Teeth that Gnash

You wake up from your sleep much like one does when they have been forcefully submerged under water—violently.

Gasping, spluttering, and with a racing heartbeat your body jerks into an upright position. Attempting to get your breathing under control takes a long time. Shutting your eyes you let out a deep breath and run a hand through your hair. Fingers snag on the tangles in your unruly thick curls and gritting your teeth in slight pain you tug and unravel the knots.

Hand now free and hair somewhat less knotted than before a groan escapes your lips and you rub your eyes with the heels of your palm. _Another one of those dreams, aren’t you the lucky one_? You think bitterly as you continue to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

You can never remember your dreams, for some reason they always slipped away from you as soon as your body jolted into wakefulness. There wasn’t even a time that you can recall from your youth where you had awoken with a clear recollection of what had startled you out of the world of vivid colors and strange voices; however, one thing never changed—the way you felt once waking up. Sure it varied, but most dreams left you in a fierce panic and with a crushing desire to leave. It was one of the main reasons why you island jumped so much in your youth after—

You quickly brush that trail of thought out of your mind and instead lean back into the warm crease of Tamatoa’s skin. Tilting your head back you watch different fish swim in shadowy colored schools. _It’s so beautiful_. Wistfully you reach a hand up as if you could touch Lalotai’s unique ceiling, and follow the movements of the creatures with your fingers. A large shadow swims overhead and you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as you recognize the familiar shape. With your fingers you trail across the back of the koholā. It is mating season and the waters are full of them. Tracing down the tail you remember the time when you first saw one…

You had barely turned the tender age of fourteen—by that time you had become well acquainted with wayfinding—when a sudden shift in the water warned you that you were no longer alone. Securing your canoe to make sure if the need to flee arose you could easily do so, you glance out into the open water looking for what had stirred up such a current. There is a peek of a dark gray that slips up to the surface that makes you have to squint against the sun to see it clearly. Watching the shape against the suns glare it takes you moment to figure out what it is but once you do your breath catches in your throat.

She is beautiful.

Her body kisses the unmoving pane of the sea surface, so close that you can even see the wrinkles etched into her skin. Barnacles and sea pockets dot in circular clusters the expanse of her body as power ripples beneath her flesh. You watch as her body turns freely in the water and see eyes that are alight with mischief and intelligence. The moment feels sacred when her powerful body moves and twists and breaks free of the glimmering mirror of water and splashes back down on the opposite side. Canoe rocking unsteadily beneath the soles of your feet you can feel the force of her splash as you are pushed a little ways. The vessel tips slightly from the strength of the wave, but thankfully, because of how the koholā had positioned herself, you are not capsized.

Eyes bright with wonder you have to resist the urge to move to the edge of your canoe to dip your hand into the water so that you could feel the different currents created by her movement. Instead you grip tightly to the post in the middle of your canoe and watch as an explosion of air and water geyser from her blowhole. The water ripples and her body tilts gracefully back down to dive deeper into the sea.

Realizing what is about to happen—and thanking yourself internally for not succumbing to your earlier desire—you grab for your ropes and prepare yourself for the massive splash. You are not disappointed. The sun reflects the beautiful patterns of the white on her tail before your canoe—and yourself—are covered in a wave.

Another shadow passes overhead and you are drawn out of the memory. Another koholā has joined the other. Fascinated, you watch as they begin to swim in a complex pattern. Mesmerized from their dance it takes you a moment to register that your hand had dropped and instead begun to trace the beginning of the tattoo that spiraled from the top of your left shoulder to the bottom of your right hip. With a tender grin you remember that it had taken three years of persuasion (the longest you had ever remained on an island) before the tribe you were with at that time finally consented to etching the beauty of your experience with her onto your skin.

They were one of the few tribes that had cried when you left them to continue voyaging across the sea.

A frown dips across your face as a flash of pain echoes from your chest. The love those people had for you, and you them, had made leaving nearly unbearable but somehow the need to keep going had pushed you onward. Your fingers rub deeper into markings before your hand fall.

Eyes drifting back up in gentle admiration you follow the two shadows of the koholās before they swims further into the ocean’s embrace. Shifting deeper into the warmth of Tamatoa’s skin you find yourself feeling oddly satisfied. You won’t deny that there is a deep ache in your chest that still stings from the recent betrayal of your former tribe but at this moment, at this very second, you are filled with a sense of peace, a sense of place.

Snorting softly you shake your head with a wry smile at the irony of it before a grumble startles your attention. Tilting your head you watch in amusement as Tamatoa shifts his head into a different positon, probably to ease the crick that must have built up from the previous angle, and stifle a giggle once you realize that there’s a faint trail of drool drying on the corner of his mouth. _If only he could see himself._

Taking this moment while he’s asleep you stand up slowly to get a good look at the creature who nearly ate you. Walking as softly as you can you move onto his shell to get a better view and notice that one of his legs is missing. You cock your head in confusion. From your scant knowledge of sea creatures one of few things you do know about crabs is that they molt. Which most likely meant that Tamatoa would have the ability to regrow the limbs he’s lost. _I wonder why he hasn’t tried to regrow it, could it be that crabs are only able to molt at certain times?_ Furrowing your brows in confusion, and frustration at the lack of knowledge, you lean forward for a closer look. It soon becomes apparent that the loss of Tamatoa’s leg was no accident. It’s slightly jagged from wear but you can tell that it was cleanly cut off. A shiver of fear settles under your skin. _I wonder what type of monster was big enough to do that?_ Swallowing deeply you turn away from the severed appendage and continue your perusal of the sleeping crab.

Other than the fact that he was ginormous crustacean literally carrying his obsession of gold with him—which you noticed contrasted in a rather aesthetically pleasing way against his cool colored skin tones—you realize that his age must consists of centuries. His face was sea pocked and barnacles decorated his pincers but that wasn’t what gave it away; it was the sudden realization that this crab, which spanned to an extraordinary size, was at one point smaller than you.

For a moment your mind can’t comprehend it. To be alive that long, what he must have been up to, the stories that he could tell. Your eyes drift back up to the large crater in the rock. _Something of quite some force must have flung him into it. I wonder what the story is behind that?_ A loud shriek behind cuts off your contemplation of ‘what could have happened’ and instead has you quickly diving for cover in the fold of Tamatoa’s neck. You watch in weary tension as the Pe'ape'a-maka-walu lands on Tamatoa’s plated stomach. Its nails dragging as it walks towards you with a chittering sound.

Curling up tighter into Tamatoa’s neck you wet your lips in uneasiness while your hands begin to jab at the crab roughly.

“Tama,” you start out in a high-pitched whisper, “Tama, Tamatoa!”

Nothing and the eight-eyed bat is getting closer.

Heart pounding and sweat beading at your temples you let out a high pitched scream—consequences be damned if it draws every living monster in a 40ft radius and you’re stuck with a cranky crab—at the same time the Pe'ape'a-maka-walu lets out a loud shriek before flapping its wings towards you.

So intent on each another the both of you are taken by surprise when a claw suddenly moves and snaps the creature in a painfully tight hold. Apparently too tight as blood splatters and gore oozes out of the now dead creature. For a moment there is no sound, even the noises in Lalotai cease for a moment, and you shakily wipe the splattered blood off your face.

“Not exactly the way I wanted to be woken up this morning.” Tamatoa rumbles in displeasure as he too notes the gore that has splashed everywhere, “Now I’m covered in disgusting purple fluids as _well_ as being stuck on my back—which is just a hotspot of pain, this shell was never meant to hold all my wonderful gloriousness in this manner _—_ life _cannot_ get any worse than this.”

For a moment your mouth merely moves up and down before you’re able to find something to say, “At least you now have breakfast. I mean, if you eat those things.”

“I suppose I can although, they are terribly chewy~” Tamatoa drawls out in a tone of resigned hunger before he plops the bat whole into his mouth. For a moment it is silent save for the crunching and popping sounds of Tamatoa’s meal. Listening to the noise your stomach recoils before growling in protest. It has been longer than 16 hours since your last meal and your body’s complaint at the thought of skipping breakfast drives it into a conflicted state of hunger and queasiness.

Stomach decidedly still gurgling you carefully check your surroundings to see if any more of the Pe'ape'a-maka-walu are around. So focused on checking every single detail— _is that a cannibalistic plant?_ —you nearly jump when Tamatoa gently nudges you with his claw—not the gut splattered one, you offhandedly note—out onto his shell, “Relax, babe, the coast’s clear.”

“Oh, yeah. Um, thanks for, I mean, you,” you stutter as his eyes watch you. You were never good at thanking people. When Tamatoa rolls his eyes you finally stop and instead shuffle in place, stomach still protesting and yelling for food.

“Sheesh human, do something about that stomach of yours. It’s going to wake up every inhabitant in Lalotai that wasn’t woken by your scream. Such a vulgar sound for such a puny thing.”

“What?” you snap as appreciation of him protecing you dwindles away. Mouth already parted for a cutting reply you stop yourself as weariness envelops your body. It’s just too _early_ to start anything right now, and you’re exhausted from your not-so-restful rest. Instead you merely wave a hand in his direction and shrug, “Yeah, haven’t eaten for about half a day, ritual rules of fasting and all, ya know? So can you help me down? I’ll go prepare myself something then—”

A loud interruption gurgles from beneath your feet and you give Tamatoa a look. He has the decency to look somewhat abashed before his face slides back into its pompous expression.

“Fine. Fine, human, I get it. All of us make vulgar noises for hunger.” His claw reaches around, picks you up, and then sets you gently onto the ground. You offer him a one armed salute as he continues to grumble before heading to the cave. You have made it partial way when something catches your eye. On the ground is the knife you had dropped when Tamatoa first picked you up. Walking over you grab the knife and slip it between the band of your skirt and your flesh. It’ll come in handy when you gut your breakfast. You suppress a shudder. One tribe you visited like to eat them whole with the fish’s eyes still staring out. Weeks after you still had trouble eating the main staple of tribe life and had to learn how to gut the slippery little creatures in a manner that you were able to eat them.

“What do you think you’re going to do with that, human?”

You glance up and see Tamatoa staring at you with a semi-dark expression, his claw twitching as if it wanted to grab you. It takes you a moment to realize the reason for such an adverse reaction to your retrieval of the knife and you flush in indignation.

“Unlike some creatures, humans don’t like to eat fish whole. I was going to gut my breakfast so I could have something to _eat_. Not all like having our breakfast staring at them.” You turn and continue walking toward the cave before pausing, he really did have a legitimate excuse to be leery of your retrieval of the knife. The measure of trust he put in you—whether he wanted to or not—when he let you sleep on his unprotected skin must have been difficult despite his knowledge that he could damage you ten times more. Slightly abashed you turns towards him, “But I don’t really need it on my person when I go to sleep, that is if you let me sleep near you. I’ll only keep it on my person if I’m by myself.”

“Why should I care what you do or don’t do human? That puny knife is nothing against the monsters here Lalotai.”

In exasperation at his response your throw your arms in the air before entering the cave. It takes you a few moments to realize you forgot something.

“Babe~” Tamatoa’s voice drifts into the cave as you slap a hand to your forehead, “missing something?”

Grumbling and cursing you stomp out of the cave, still careful of your left foot, and stand waiting in front of the smiling, annoyingly smug crustacean. In one of his claws the shield glints.

“Here you go,” he says lowering his shield so that you can take it, which you do with a huff, “I think maybe six trips might suffice in filling me at least halfway. The bat did some of the work. Maybe I should use you as bait to lure me more.” His teeth glint and you frown darkly before heading back to the cave.

“Maybe you should consider going on a diet!” You call over your shoulder once you deem yourself a safe distance away. _Bait? Over my dead body you overgrown crustacean._

“Diet?! The mighty Tamatoa doesn’t need to diet! You need to get your eyes checked human, I’m the bod of perfection!”

You turn to shout something back when you realize something, you’re not alone in cave. Crouching over the leftover fish and eating them with a distended mouth and razor sharp teeth is something you’ve never heard about in legends. It’s darkly scaled with spikes that raise and fall with every chew. Two sets of beady gold eyes look out from beneath a heavily marked face and arms (you think they’re arms) branch off into two sets of hands. It had just ate the last fish when snuffling it turned towards you. _Turns out Tamatoa is going to have me act as bait,_ you think bitterly as the hairs on your arms rise.

“Tama, get ready to catch!” You yell out before sprinting out of the cave not even waiting for Tamatoa’s response as the creature lets out an inhuman roar before giving chase. The hot breath is foul and hot on the back of your neck and you wonder if you’re close enough to Tamatoa for him to catch it. You’re worries are put to rest when there’s an abrupt yip of fear and the cracking sound of bone.

Collapsing in a heap you let out a ragged breath while Tamatoa mutters something along the lines of, “haven’t had one of these in a while,” before crunching fills the air. Lying on your back, still trying to regulate your breathing, you stare at the ocean.

“See, babe, I told you you’d be a great bait.” Tamatoa comments behind you before reaching a claw over to nudge you.

“Hopefully, I won’t have to be again.” You mutter before pressing a hand thankfully to his claw. Getting up is difficult and you end up collapsing with a hiss as your left foot screams from its abuse.

“That looks nasty, babe.” Tamatoa says as you remove the cloth bandage from your foot. And he’s right, it does look bad. Swollen and an angry shade of red the cut pulsates heat as you touch it experimentally. You rub a hand through your hair and look up at the ocean.

“Is there any way I can get fresh water around here? I need to at least rinse it out.”

Tamatoa is quiet for a moment and you continue to press around the wound before determining that yes, it is infected and that yes, it needs treatment.

“There’s not a spring close enough that I’d trust you to come back from in one piece but,” he points a claw at a tree across from him that has blue-green fruit that light up randomly, “those might help.”

“Those?” you reply back with apparent incredulity. Tamatoa’s eyes swivel towards you.

“Yes, human, those. They are similar to the above world’s nuts from the Kuki tree.” Eyes widening you seriously began to consider climbing the tree and picking some of the fruits. If you can make a liquid paste out of them it can create a salve for the cut. But you hesitate, until the wound is cleaned it wouldn’t matter how much paste you make and put on—the infection would still be there.

“It won’t make a difference there’s still stuff in the cut. I have to clean it out first.” You mutter before leaning back onto the claw.

“Hmm, that is quite the dilemma.” Tamatoa mutters before you feel one of his pincers picking you up to bring you closer. Shuffling in place he angles himself a little before dropping you on his shell. For a moment you both sit there in silent contemplation before Tamatoa groans and makes a face, “I have an idea but you can’t say a single word about it to anyone! Nobody! This conversation NEVER comes back up again. EVER! Do you understand, babe?”

“Okay, sure.” You hesitantly respond before wondering what one earth the crab is going on about.

“Good. Now rewrap your foot, I need you to gather four or five of those fruits and then come back.”  Frowning in confusion you open your mouth to ask what the idea is but Tamatoa snaps, “And no questions.” And you still your tongue. In silent bewilderment you direct a pointed look towards the impromptu bandage you left on the ground. Tamatoa grumbles a bit and you admire his dexterity as he picks up the cloth and drops it beside you. Silently you rewrap your foot and let him pick you up before placing you on the ground.

The first step you take has your entire body tensing up from the pain. Clenching your jaw you hobble over to the nearest tree. The bark is smooth, with rough rings that build up from the bottom to its top. Gripping the trunk firmly you begin the long process of hauling yourself up. Your arms shake slightly due to hunger and exhaustion and it is a miracle when you reach the first branch that bares fruit. Swinging one leg over, you straddle the branch between your legs and scooch closer to the fruit. As you reach for the first one the tree begins to light up beneath you in a neon swatch of colors. Squawking in surprise you nearly fall off the branch.

“Tamatoa?”

“It’s fine, babe, just the tree reacting to your presence.”

“And is the ‘tree reacting to my presence’ going to do anything else weird? Like, I don’t know, start moving branches or grow teeth?”

Tamatoa laughs, “What kind of legends have you humans been making up? Babe, it’s a tree not a monster. It won’t do anything else the change a few colors.”

You shoot the crab a dubious look before hesitantly scooching closer to the fruit. When nothing happens you withdraw your knife from its place and cut five of the fruits off the tree. Immediately a strong sap smell fills your senses. Gagging slightly you tuck the fruit inside the small pouch you keep at your hip and begin to ready yourself to scale the tree back down.

Once the ground touches the tips of your toes you shoot one more look at the strange tree that is still lighting up in strange patterns before heading over to Tamatoa. With his strange dexterity he picks you up as soon as you’re close enough, and sets you back on the plated part of his stomach. With a grunt of frustration Tamatoa grabs at something at the edge of his shell before placing it in front of you.

Even though it is slightly dented and there is a small amount of wear a sigh of awe escapes your lips as you pick up the gold bowl. Patterns decorate all of its sides and there are interesting figures etched into one area. Running your fingers over that area specifically you notice the similarity the markings have to the ones from a previous tribe you had visited about seven years back. Bringing the bowl to your face you attempt to make out the markings but are interrupted from your study when Tamatoa readjusts himself in a more comfortable position.

“Okay, babe,” Tamatoa begins once comfortable. You place the bowl down—no sense in trying to decipher the markings now—and listen, “all you need to do is cut the fruit up and mash the seeds—ONLY the seeds—and add this,” He pulls up a glowing flower that you hadn’t noticed earlier and you watch as the flower shrieks a little as he clips part of the root off. Carelessly dropping the flower back onto the ground, having it already served its purpose, he hands you the root. It’s soft and its texture slowly becomes gooey and liquid-like as you drop it into the bowl. _The root probably carries similar properties to ulu,_ you think as you start to cut up the fruit to get to the seeds. Despite your initial reservations you begin to see the parallels between the paste and the healing paste that was common back amongst the village tribes. You eye Tamatoa critically, _how on earth did he come about this knowledge?_

With Tamatoa’s careful eyes scrutinizing everything that you do you finish cutting up the fruit and dump the seeds into the bowl as was instructed before placing the extra beside you—which you then throw off as Tamatoa starts to mutter about being sticky. With everything mixed in the bowl Tamatoa hands you heavy piece of gold from off his shell to mash the ingredients with.

“It needs to be a liquid like paste but the seeds can’t be completely pulverized.” Tamatoa states as you begin to mash the ingredients together. After a moment, he brushes your hand away from the bowl and holds it up to his face for inspection. You watch in fascination as his eyes zoom in as his claw shifts the contents within the bowl back forth. You hear him hum a bit before placing the bowl in front of you, “just a sec. It needs more…” he trails off and grabs the plant he had discarded earlier. Snipping off another part of the root he drops it into the bowl. “Okay now mash it up again but make sure that while the seeds aren’t complexly mushed the root is.”

Surprised you follow his instructions, being careful to not get too carried away. It was clear that he knew what he was doing. _Maybe there’s more to him than just shiny stuff,_ you pondered before letting Tamatoa once more pick the bowl up and judge it. Deeming the mixture the right consistency you’re surprised when Tamatoa’s face puckers up in extreme dislike. “Now, I need you to cut your foot open.”

“What?” You squawk out in surprise.

“I need the wound open to,” his face screws up in displeasure as he haltingly finishes, “suck out the infection.”

“WHAT?!”

“It’s the only way! You’re too far to reach any spring of fresh water safely, the ocean water is completely unsanitary—”

“And your _mouth_ isn’t? You just ate a creepy thing with guts and stuff! Parts of it are probably still in your _teeth_!”

“I resent that! My mouth is one of the most hygienic places! And I’m not going to _chew_ your foot! I’m going to _suck out_ the infection. You think that I _want_ your unsanitary disgusting human foot in my mouth?!”

“You’ll probably bite it clean off! Have you seen your teeth?!”

“I’m not going to bite it, I already told you, I’m going to _clean_ it.”

“No.”

“Human—”

“No.”

“It needs to be—”

“I am not sticking my foot in your mouth.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

“We wait.

“Wait for what?” Tamatoa asks in exasperation. “Babe, your foot is infected. There’s no possible way you’d survive the trip to the springs on your own and I can’t take you because I’m _stuck_.” The ‘and I need you’ goes unspoken.

“Then we get you unstuck.” You reply back stubbornly.

“ _How_?”

Parting your mouth in response you pause, you have absolutely no idea how to get Tamatoa upright. Your foot throbs and you know that you can’t hold off on healing the cut. You glance up a Tamatoa. His face is a mixture of embarrassment, and stubbornness. _He doesn’t have to do this,_ you realize and immediately feel the tension and fear unwind from your shoulders. _We’re stuck in this together_. _I can’t leave him because I need him for protection, he can’t eat me because he needs me to be able to help him but I can’t do that well enough if my foot…_

You flip the knife in your hand and firmly bring your foot closer. Eyeing the scab you can tell from how distended it is from your skin that it’s bad and isn’t going to get better until you do something.

“Tamatoa,” his eye stalks swivel towards you and his mouth deepens in a frown, “can you place your claw behind me? I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand once I cut it and I need some sort of support to keep me upright.”

He’s silent but slowly his pincer moves behind you until you can feel it resting against your back. Taking a deep breath you wipe the knife on your skirt before placing the point at the top of where the cut begins. Clenching your teeth you reopen the wound with a swift movement. Gasping, you hiccup little sobs and press the now reopened cut lightly.

Yellow, green, and red all slosh out in a putrid mess. It’s gross and immediately you don’t want Tamatoa to do what he’s suggested.

“It’s so bad,” you hiccup while dropping the knife to wipe your tears, “Tama, you don’t have to do this. I’ll find something else, I’ll figure something out.”

You feel his claw encircle around your waist securely before you are picked up and drawn closer to his face. Your foot presses against the soft skin of Tamatoa’s mouth and you move your hands to cover your face as you continue to cry in a mixture of embarrassment, pain, and self-deprecation.

“You’d think from how hard you’re crying that you’re about to be eaten.” Tamatoa snorts and you let out a watery laugh. “Alright, bend the leg that isn’t hurt, I don’t want to lick two gross feet.”

Another watery choked filled sound escapes your lips and you do as you’re told.

 _It’s weird._ That’s all you can think when your left leg up to your thigh is submerged into the warmth of Tamatoa’s mouth. You can feel the slight press of his teeth against your flesh which sets your skin on edge but it’s his tongue that makes you want to squirm. It’s slick, lightly rough in texture, and apparently very maneuverable. You can feel it slide around and encase your entire leg before there’s a slight tugging pressure.

You can’t help but let out a slight yelp as your body is marginally stretched from the strength of the suction. What makes everything more uncomfortable though is the way Tamatoa stares at you. It’s not like he really has a choice of the matter, with you so close to his face and all, but it makes you flush all the way to your chest. Tamatoa’s sneaky grin at your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed and it causes you to look away in embarrassment. A feeling that only grows as you feel the way his tongue now twists up and down around your leg.

With a blush darkening your cheeks you can’t help the hitch in your chest at the combined feeling of his stare and the way his tongue moves. _It feels so obscene,_ you think as his tongues twists down lower around your leg and the tugging feeling continues. Despite the other feelings warring within you can’t deny that Tamatoa’s idea is working. The pain that you’ve been ignoring until it became too much had now faded into a dull ache.

The suction on your foot ceases and the tongue unwinds from your limb. With a loud and rather lewd _pop_ Tamatoa removes your leg from his mouth before smacking his lips obnoxiously.

“Oh, stop.” You huff and gently push at his claw before running a hand across your face. The whole ordeal had caused you to blush so hard that you could feel the heat emanating from your cheeks.

“Is that any way to thank the person who just did the unspeakable to your foot, babe?” Tamatoa snarky tone asks with a mixture of mock hurt and amusement. Your face pulls into a frown before you groan and thunk your head against the claw.

“Don’t remind me. I am so sorry that you had to do something like that.”

“How did you get such a nasty cut on your foot anyways? Does it perhaps have something to do with those rope burns around your wrists, mon petit poisson?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're going to end there...cause I can. I would continue but the chapter is already really long, and I'm exhausted.
> 
> Koholā--Humpback Whale  
> Pe'ape'a-maka-walu--Eight-eyed bat from Moana's scene of monsters in Lalotai  
> Mon petit poisson--My little fish  
> The healing salve is based off an actual Hawaiian remedy to heal open wounds and is a mixture of the Kukui's nuts that are mashed or liquefied and added with ulu (breadfruit sap). Yeah, I did research.  
> For an image of reader-insert's tattoo you can find it here--http://prazeodymium.tumblr.com/post/154356176657/reader-inserts-tattoo-from-legends-dont-remain


	4. The Creation of Lalotai

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took many liberties with the creation story of Lalotai.

Hearing those words your body stills and your face goes pale. The shouts of your tribe echo in your ears.

"Somewhat,” you reply tonelessly before gesturing to be put down, “I need to put the salve on the wound which is clean now. Thank you.”

Tamatoa’s eyes bore into you and your skin prickles with awareness.

“That’s not an explanation about what happened, babe~” he drawls as he brings you closer to his face. You swallow drily and anxiety begins to eat at you. “And for those marks in your wrist to be that deep your hands must have been tied for hours.”

A flush spreads across your face and anger stirs in your belly. _How dare he?! He has no right to ask!_ “It’s none of your business about how or under what circumstances I ended up here in Lalotai.” You bite out with narrowed eyes that mimic his, “All you need to know is that I’m stuck here with you, and as long as I’m healthy and can help you any way possible, I will.”

For a moment you both stare at each other, unwilling to budge from your positions and give the other a smidge, until you begin fear that he won’t put you down at all. A shock of pain spikes up your leg as the wound remains open to the cutting air. The sharp pain reminding you of its current condition, and you can’t help the well of tears that begin to from in your eyes.

“Really, Tamatoa…please just put me down. My foot—” your voice cuts off as the exposed nerve endings from the gash begin to burn. Frustrated at yourself and your lack of control you can’t help the swell of emotions that rise up within you. Never before had you been in a position, except for the last three days, where you could not manipulate the situation and find a way out. Then you had found that tribe— _that tribe of traitors and superstitious folk!_ —and were thrown, quite literally in fact, into a world where creatures could tear you in two without a second thought. Cornered and without any leverage, not even with the absolute knowledge that Tamatoa wouldn’t eat you once you helped him, the mixture of pain, rage, and betrayal manifested into a current of angry tears.

“Oh, for the love of Ta’aroa, babe.” Tamatoa sighed in exasperation before you were lowered onto the shell of his stomach. Through the angry blur of tears you collapse and drag your wounded leg towards you while hissing. Brushing the tears away with an irate sniff—thankfully they were slowing to a halt by now, you hated the fact that you cried when you were angry—you eyed the wound critically. Pink and puckered, the split flesh formed a puffy slash that stretched across the ball of your foot. Pressing firmly against the cut the blood that trickles out is clear of any infection. Head nodding in satisfaction you reach for the bowl and you coat your fingers liberally. Rubbing the slick ointment that is both slick yet lumpy between your fingers you glance up and see that despite Tamatoa not pushing for answers he isn’t satisfied. There is a forced mask of nonchalance across his face but the curiosity and irritation is clear to see in his eyes. Sighing, you realize that had your positions been swapped you wouldn’t have been satisfied with the clipped responses either. You withhold a wince as a certain coat stings your foot momentarily and stare at the paste coating your fingers before closing your eyes in resignation. _I don’t have to tell him everything,_ _you think to yourself, but our lives would so much easier if we just…laid everything out. Trust can’t be built if everything is hidden._ Taking a deep breath to steady yourself you resolutely stare at your foot before starting.

“Look,” you begin as you slather another layer of the ointment, “the reason why I’m here is because I stole something from the tribe I had been making a pit-stop at.” You glance up under your lashes and note the way Tamatoa’s large eyes are focused on you. You swallow deeply and don’t mention how they were the third tribe you had debated with yourself over at staying and making a home in. That’s too open and too raw of a wound to share.

“The artifact,” you continue before looking back down at your now ointment covered wound where a crisp, yet clean smell has started to emanate from, “had belonged to my people when we were still a people. The tribe misunderstood my intentions and became suspicious of me and the artifact that I had stolen. Things soon got blown out of proportion and resulted in, apparently, a death banishment.” You pick up the knife and cut the soiled part of the bandage off. Slicing up the remaining cloth into a more manageable size you quickly begin to wrap the clean one around the wound.

“Was it worth stealing?” Tamatoa cuts in and you glance at him in surprise. A small smile flickers across your face.

“Yes.” Your hand twitches towards the pouch at your side and you notice how Tamatoa’s eyes light up with interest. The smile stretches across your face and you decide to let the klepto-like crab stew in curiosity for a little longer.

“Anyways, the marks on my wrist,” you continue while still focused on your task but still glancing up the crab. You have to withhold a smile from forming when you notice his apparent disappointment in not being shown the treasure you had stolen, “are from the ropes that bound my arms behind my back. The tribe had very strict ritual rites. The one I underwent had my arms bound for two days while fasting for the last 24 hours.”

A chill sets across your shoulders and you don’t mention the attempt at burning your soul tattoo away by one of the villagers. An act that would have resulted in an immediate banishment from almost every tribe you had been part of. Looking back on it now that was probably your best warning that the tribe had other plans for you at judgement.

“After that,” you continue in a bitter tone as you tie and tuck the bandage securely, “I was blindfolded and dragged to a canoe where they took me to the spire that led to your realm, but not before forcing me to climb damn thing blindfolded.” Sighing, you pop your neck and feel a swell of relief at the numbing cold coming from the paste. Content that the herbal remedy is working you tilt your head to meet Tamatoa’s eyes. He hadn’t said since his earlier interruption and his face was impassive, but you could detect a strange look of what looked like sympathy in his eyes. Uncomfortable with the display of opening up you direct the attention onto him, “What about you? What’s your story? How did you end up,” you gesture to all of him, “like this?”

“Maui.” Came Tamatoa’s clipped reply.

“Maui? Like demi-god Maui from the legends?” Surprise coats your voice and your eyebrows raise in disbelief.

“Yes, _that_ demi-mini-god and just for the record not all the legends about him are entirely true. Many are rather embellished~”        

You shrug your shoulders before moving into a more comfortable position, “Never was much of a believer to begin with. Every tribe I visited had a different story for every legend. Made it easy to only believe them as stories for children. Ironic isn’t it? A non-believer gets thrown into a place where almost all the legends, in some way, are true.” Tamatoa chuckles and your face breaks out in a small smile as well. It really was amusing in a sick-twisted sort of way, “Anyways, I interrupted. Do continue.”

“Well, as I was saying, it’s all his fault that I’m in this mess.” His face darkens momentarily, “and the fault of that other insipid human girl.”

Intrigued you skoosh closer, “Another human in Lalotai and with a demi-god? Well, that does sound like a story. Much more interesting than mine. Care to elaborate to the awaiting audience?” You watch as Tamatoa’s face lights up at the thought of _finally_ being able to tell someone his side of things when your stomach growls. Tamatoa sighs dramatically before giving you a pointed look.

“Hey,” you say defensively, “I was a little too busy acting as bait while running from _your_ breakfast to get mine.”

Tamatoa rolls his eyes, “Well, I can’t tell my story when the audience’s stomach sounds like s'il se dévorait. Do you think your foot can handle you getting yourself some food?”

You open your mouth to answer him with a definite affirmative before pausing and actually thinking about it. Tentatively, you stand up and immediately collapse, your face turning ashen _. Nope, no standing for the time being. Not until_ _the scab forms_. You don’t even have to say anything for Tamatoa to understand. He only has to take one look at you before he starts looking around him with a frown. When your stomach lets out another groan you look up at Lalotai’s ceiling.

“Tamatoa? Will the fish be able to see the glint of the shield from here?”

Tamatoa glances up too and frowns before shaking his head, “One of the reasons why I built my home here is because of how the ocean drops in the area where ceiling opens. It’s one of the only places in Lalotai where the ocean is close enough. Otherwise it’s too far for the light to catch the fishes’ attention. I mean can you picture it? Me walking around as I normally do with fish raining around me the entire time? No thank you, how unglamorous.”

The laugh that explodes from you is something that you haven’t experienced in a long time. Tears of amusement prick at your eyes as your mind creates the image perfectly and all too clearly. By the time you have calmed yourself down Tamatoa has three large fruits in one of his pincers. Curious you accept the proffered offering and recognize two of the fruits from your travels, well somewhat recognize, Lalotai had made hybrids of them. The first is pitaya, distinct with its spikes and colors Lalotai had dyed the outside a shockingly bright teal with spikes a vibrant orange. The other fruit, you eye with curiousness, is cherimoya, or at least that’s what you think it is. Unlike up at the surface the texture of it is fuzzy like the skin of coconut while at the same time it skin flickers with a glowing magenta light. The final fruit though, you turn it around in your hands carefully, you have never seen it before. It looked like a burr but dyed a sharp scarlet with hair that swayed in different colors. _How did Tamatoa get these? He didn’t just pull them out of his shell._ You glance up a view his shell dubiously, _did he?_

“Where did you get these?” You finally ask while rotating the fruit thoughtfully in your hands.

“Honestly, babe, one would think you’d have a better grasp on your surroundings.” Tamatoa replied with an eye roll before pointing at a tree that was spouting from somewhere above his head.

“That was _not_ there earlier!”

“No?” Tamatoa asked before looking up in interest, “Huh, Lalotai must be busy then.” You stare up at him in confusion before he obviously takes pity on you and elaborates, “Lalotai is a pretty inhospitable place, but she takes care of all of us in some way. When she decides that one of her creatures in her realm are in need she just,” he shrugged, well, as much as a crab could shrug while lying on their back, “fulfills that need.”

“You talk about her as if she were sentient.”

“She is. Just not in the way most would think.” A grumble rumbles from your stomach again and Tamatoa looks at you with exasperation, “Babe, how’s this? You eat the fruit that Lalotai has provided for your feeble, fleshy mortal-self and I’ll tell you the story about how she was created.” You nod enthusiastically and quickly wipe your blade clean before slicing open the pitaya. Stunned, you stare at the neon green flesh, a complete contrast to the usual white, before taking a tentative bite. Sweetness explodes on your tongue and you can’t help the moan of satisfaction as the sticky juices trickles down your chin. You catch Tamato’s satisfied expression before he launches into his tale.

“First thing you must understand is that unlike the Gods and Goddesses of other legends, Lalotai is not part of their circle or realm, she’s on entirely different level because of _how_ she came to be.” You raise your eyebrows as Tamatoa dramatically pauses to build suspense. “From shattered pieces, Lalotai, was brought into existence from Hine-nui-te-pō’s heart.”

Your head jerks up at that and your eyes widen, “The Goddess of night and death? The ruler of the underworld? That Hine-nui-te-pō?”

“Yes, human, _that_ Hine-nui-te-pō.” He looks at you in amusement, “Seems like you know your legends pretty well for a non-believer.

You shrug before cutting open the cherimoya, the flesh of it the same as the above world’s; however, you are taken by surprise when the flavor is not of its usual combination. Chewing it thoughtfully you try to place the unique but familiar tastes. _Guava and poha berry,_ you realize with smugness as the names of the fruit come to mind as you take another bite _._ Sweet in the initial bite, and tart in the aftertaste. Swallowing, you glance back at Tamatoa who still hasn’t continued his story before rolling your eyes, “I may not have believed in the legends but I found them fascinating nonetheless. Are you going to continue?”

“Depends, babe, are you going to interrupt me again?” You smile brightly in response before pointedly taking another bite of your breakfast. Tamatoa sighs in mock irritation before continuing, “Anyways, before I was so _rudely interrupted,_ eons passed with Hine-nui-te-pō continuing on with her sacred duty: providing refuge to souls after they had traveled the troublesome waters and were ready to be reborn. On a day where only a few souls had gathered she noticed a collected crying below her. Now Hine-nui-te-pō was confused, from her knowledge there should be nothing beneath her, but the continuous cries suggested otherwise. Gaining help from her younger sister, Mahuika, she used her sister’s flames to illuminate the saturating darkness. With the little amount of light she was able to see that huddled in wandering masses were souls who were never part of the human race. Ranging from all different sizes the creatures would wail sorrowfully, yet angrily at the Gods who had condemned them for their differences.

“As her sister and she watched, souls hurriedly ran to where the meager amount of light shone. In it they would cry in relief at seeing that they weren’t alone in their trapped void. However, Hine-nui-te-pō’s sister couldn’t stay there forever illuminating a small patch where souls could gather. She had her own duties to fulfil, her own souls to offer light to. Which left only Hine-nui-te-pō to listen to their weeping cries night after night.” Tamatoa broke off then, his eyes somewhat vacant as he started to sing a haunting tone that made you pause and stare wide-eyed at him in mid-bite.

_“Mother of Souls, great woman of night,_

_Why have the Gods forbidden us light?_

_Is it because they heavy with shame_

_Could not bear to see the things they have made?_

_Although, we were once considered their children_

_Great legends that would travel the land,_

_We into this watery tomb were flung in,_

_And soon became whispers, forgotten by man._

_In this world of void and hate_

_Something that only the Gods could create._

_We wander alone, forgotten in gloom_

_To live out our days in a watery tomb._

 

_Will you too abandon us like those of before?_

_Cast out by the Gods, and left to the sea floor._

_Us lost and wandering without the sight of our kin_

_Because of your shadow you have buried us in._

_But we do not fear the dark of your touch,_

_It’s only the night that has become too much._

_For we understand from your tale that once bitter_

_That legends weren’t to remain in the dark, they glitter._

 

Tamatoa ended the song with a sorrowful drawl that filled the inside of your chest with an aching loneliness. You watched as he blinked his eyes rapidly before clearing his throat uneasily, “Anyways, as I was saying, the souls beneath Hine-nui-te-pō sang this song day and night, and every night as their sorrowful wail would reach Hine-nui-te-pō it caused a deep cold to form in her chest. When the tenth night came Hine-nui-te-pō, restless from the moans and cries of the harrowed, the moon in the sky even blotted out above her, her eyes went wide with grief from the souls that were cast out by the other Gods. With a single tear escaping her eyes her heart broke and scattered below.

“From those broken shards Lalotai came to be. Born from Hine-nui-te-pō’s grief and compassion for the souls her shadow covered Lalotai encompassed all of them within in her. Lalotai, although part of Hine-nui-te-pō but separate, created a light that none of the souls had ever seen before. It was something different, unique from the world above, yet connected to Hine-nui-te-pō’s own love for them. A love that none of the other Gods had given them. Lalotai offered refuge for souls that Hine-nui-te-pō could not take and although, somewhat inhospitable due to her origin, she provided for each them the best she could. Still does,” Tamatoa’s eyes wandered back up to the tree above his head that had begun to glow with a pleasant light.

“Wow,” you breathed before sliding closer to Tamatoa to see the tree better, “I never thought of the creation of Lalotai before. In almost all the tribes I’ve visited, Lalotai was only referred to as the realm of monsters. There was no…” your voice trailed off as patch of flowers bloomed to your left. Stunned you watched as strange lights floated out of their centers and moved towards you and Tamatoa. They were fluffy, yet squid like with their neon tentacles and transparent side wings that swirled softly in the air. As they came closer, lights flickering and changing as they did, you could hear soft hum similar to the tune Tamatoa used for his song.

“Tama, what are they?” You asked before tentatively trying to stand. Tamatoa immediately placed a claw behind you for support as a dark purple one floated near. For a moment feather light tentacles brushed against your forehead before you were filled with wave of an emotion that brought tears to your eyes. It felt like standing in the ocean with your face upturned towards the sun. It spoke of comfort and belonging.

As the tentacles continued to brush against your forehead you reached a shaking hand to brush the top of one. You are taken by surprise when the creature-like light flickers from it soft peach like color to a bright coral, teal, and purple patterned glow. It nudges against you once more before all of them had slowly fade out of existence.

With a blinding grin you turn towards Tamatoa ready to bombard him with questions of what you just experienced when a shaking rumble throws you off your feet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're ending there for tonight. I'll see you next time after Christmas break but realize that despite the fact that I will never give up on this fic I am a junior, soon-to-be senior, working on my Bachelor's in college and school will sometimes take priority. I love all of you that have left a kudos, a comment, or even have taken the moment to stop and read my work. Thank you. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday.  
>   
> By the way I absolutely suck at poetry and the like so any comments on how to fix/make better the song would be appreciated.  
>   
> “Well, I can’t tell my story when the audience’s stomach sounds like s'il se dévorait."  
> Translation: “Well, I can’t tell my story when the audience’s stomach sounds like its trying to devour itself."
> 
> Fruits: Pitaya "Dragon Fruit", Cherimoya, Rambutan--info website: https://kukuiula.com/blog-articles/fruits-youve-never-heard-of-kauai/
> 
> If you have any further questions feel free to leave a comment asking such.
> 
> By the way, I, uh, went back and edited chapter 1-3...there's some slightly new dialogue but nothing too major.


	5. Lalotai's Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I know that this chapter is really short but I wanted you guys to be able to read something and with how college is I didn't know when that would be. 
> 
> IMPORTANT!! BEFORE READING ANY FURTHER GO BACK AND REREAD CHAPTER 4! There have been significant changes to this chapter and it must be read before reading this one. Also, chapters 1-3 have also been edited so if you wish to see more character development, added dialogue, and more suitable flow please reread them.
> 
> Love you all and happy readings,  
> Prazeo

With wide eyes you watch as the left side of the rockface, the side furthest from Tamatoa, shatters and carves a jagged scar down itself before stopping at the top of an upturned oyster shell. Your body flinches as a geyser of sparkling water shoots from the top of the jagged crack before sliding sinuously down the predetermined path. With wide eyes you watch as the shell slowly fills up with the flowing liquid until the water reaches the lip. Your mouth in a perfect “o” you watch as water continues to splash into the shell but never begins to overflow. A soft light from the corner of your eye catches your attention and for a moment you see the creatures swimming leisurely within the water before they disappear in soft beading drops.

Tamatoa and you are silent, and the water gushing down the crack is the only sound for a moment. Your mouth moves uselessly as words form but aren’t uttered. Eventually you close it with a soft clack.

“Tama, what just happened? Is this the whole Lalotai sees something needed and just,” your hands gesture limply, “fulfils that need? Tama? Hey, Tamatoa?” You glance towards him and nearly jolt back in shock. His face is pinched and his eyes are narrowed.

“I heard you the first time human.” He grouches before nudging you with his pincher, his face still screwed up in distaste. It takes you a moment to connect the reasons for why he’s so bitter and it causes a blush of embarrassment to spread across your face. _That’s right. If Lalotai had made this earlier Tamatoa and I wouldn’t have, he wouldn’t have had to, I wouldn’t—_ it was too much for you to handle and your face begins to burn with embarrassment. Eyes shifting guiltily it’s impossible to even look Tamatoa in the face.

“Well,” you clear your throat, “I guess with the spring there—”

“I get the point human. I don’t think you need to spell it out. I may be a crab but even I can connect the dots!”

“Hey!” You snap out affronted. You weren’t even going to mention the whole foot in his mouth debacle, “I wasn’t—”

“Doesn’t matter _what_ you were going to say. I don’t want to hear it.” Acting as if he got the last word Tamatoa flops dramatically on his back before leaning back up again with a pained grimace.

Bitterly you swallow your frustration and slide/hobble closer to him with concern. “Your shell?”

Tamatoa directs a glare your way before his whole body twitches and another flash of pain is visible in his face. “Not exactly…”

Raising an eyebrow you lean closer to Tamatoa’s claw before you haul yourself up so you’re sitting on top of the pincer. “What’s wrong?” you pause for a moment before a strange chill settles between your shoulders, “Your shell hasn’t cracked, has it?” Tamatoa shifts a bit and your eyes widen with worry. “Tama—”

“No human, my shell isn’t cracked.” Tamatoa sighs before he glumly looks away from you with a frown.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Tamatoa’s whole body twitches and his eyes narrow darkly. “I’m going to kill that demigod.” He mutters before looking over back at you, “My shell isn’t cracked but lying on my back for so long has caused a very unwanted, _unnecessary,_ and completely _involuntary_ reaction to happen.” Your whole body stills as Tamatoa pauses then mutters out unhappily, “I’m going to molt.”

You blink.

_He’s not serious?_

Your eyes narrow and your clench your hands until the knuckles turn white.

“Molt.” You state flatly and something about your tone has Tamatoa turning towards you with widened eyes. “You’re going to molt and you’re _unhappy_ about it? Isn’t that, I don’t know, a good thing?”

There’s a moment of silence before Tamatoa’s eyes narrow dangerously. “A _good_ thing?” Tamatoa hisses before yelling out angrily, “NO, IT IS _NOT_ A GOOD THING, YOU STUPID HUMAN! IN FACT IT IS THE WORST THING THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN. I’VE BEEN TRYING TO PREVENT THIS FOR 123 YEARS!”

Later you would wonder how his anger didn’t scare you into being silent, but not for long. It wasn’t in your personality to be cowed, and it turned out that it didn’t matter if he was a 50ft furious crab bubbling with rage and you were a small, fleshy human. When you were yelled at you took a stand.

“Don’t you DARE YELL AT ME! I’m trying to understand! I’m trying to help you, but I don’t know everything about your species. And I have no idea why such a natural occurrence in your biology is something you’ve been trying to avoid! I mean won’t you regrow your leg?” You gesture towards the severed appendage, “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“What does that leg matter when I lose everything?” Tamatoa yelled back but noticeably softer. This makes you pause. _He’s upset, but why? Breath, control yourself and think!_ Your nostrils flare and you close your eyes as you take in a deep breath. Letting it out slowly you massage your temples and furrow your brow. “Lose everything? What do you mean lose everything? The only thing that I can see is that you gain something from this situation.”

“My shell,” Tamatoa hisses and your eyes widen in surprise and you let your hands fall, “When I molt I will lose my shell which means I lose everything.”

“Tamatoa,” you pause as understanding settles in and your eyes soften, “Oh Tama,” you slide off his pincer and limp to his face. His eye stalks swivel down towards you as you pause in front of him and gently rest a hand against his neck. You can feel the motion of his claw coming up from behind you to support you and you lean gratefully against it, “Tama, don’t you see? If you molt not only will you regrow your leg but you will also have the opportunity to get off this rock.”


	6. Author's Note

First off, no this is not a new chapter and I'm deeply sorry about that. I never wanted to be that author who had to write an author note to give excuses for a lack in updating, but it seems I've become what I've feared.

An author who no longer feels inspired to continue their story.

Even though some of you have tried their best to give me ideas in continuing the story (and, yes, some of the ideas did get the cogs turning) I've inevitably come down with a case of fandom jumpitis. I have all these stories floating in my head that are not part of this fandom that when I return to this story it feels like I'm clacking an ice cube against my teeth...repeatedly.

I've come to dread looking at this story and the questions asking whether or not I'm updating to the point that I feel guilty and anxious.

So, I'm sorry to say but I will be taking a break from this fandom. This story won't have a set date for a new update and it will remain on hiatus until further notice.

Thank you for your love for this story and for my writing. 


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